


To Yield

by slightlyanxiousmonster



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub, M/M, Public Sex, Spanking, more tags as they become necessary, references to anonymous sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlyanxiousmonster/pseuds/slightlyanxiousmonster
Summary: It was a surprise to no one that Nyx Ulric had a problem with authority. His frequent run-ins with Drautos' orders became a staple in Kingsglaive training sessions and missions to the war front. Disobedience and a stubborn, unbending will became the trademark of his character.What he did in his off-time, however, was another matter entirely.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ooh, multiple chapters! This will be mostly pure smut from the second part on, so I hope you like it!

To say that Nyx Ulric had a problem with authority was like saying that Niflheim could be mildly possessive; It was the sort of understatement that brought practical-minded people to a state of dumbfounded confusion. Of _course_ Nyx chafed at the mere thought of an order from on high. Even rookies, fresh-faced from the front lines and liable to get lost in the Kingsglaive barracks, knew that. Nyx's spats with Captain Drautos were legendary, and a betting pool had long been in place to see just when Drautos would crack and put him on guard duty for the rest of his known life.

Nyx wondered, then, what they'd think if they knew how he spent his free weekends. 

"Fuck, you're tight."

Safely turned with his face to the brick wall of Gina's, one of the less prominent gay bars in Insomnia, Nyx was free to roll his eyes. He could tell that this wasn't going to last long. The man currently pressing him to the wall (too gently, like Nyx was fucking _new_ to this) was already getting short of breath, and his thrusts were shallow and erratic. Gods, he was already close, and Nyx's pleasure was just a buzz in his skin. 

"A little harder," he said, without much enthusiasm. Begging just wasn't worth it with this one. 

It wasn't worth it with most of them.

If Nyx was being honest with himself (and the Kingsglaive didn't allow him much time for self reflection) it was because he was falling into the worst habit he could have picked up in this scene: He knew exactly who he wanted, and since that was off the table, he settled for people who could pass as them if you squinted hard enough and turned off the lights. Large hands, broad shoulders, and sideways grins just short of self-deprecating were not exactly in short supply. But none of their hands fit _right_ against the back of his neck. None of their voices carried the cadence of command that Nyx was used to. No, they would never be enough, because when Nyx looked up at them from his knees or the wall or a stranger's bed, none of them wore the face of the man he wanted them to be.

Nyx Ulric was a fucking mess, but he had the feeling he was in too deep to back out now.

The same could not be said for _this_ guy, though. Nyx's man of the hour couldn't even keep a grip on his hair, and was moaning like this _wasn't_ the most lukewarm fuck in his pathetic life. He rocked into Nyx, missing his prostate by mistake rather than by design, and was making an embarrassing hissing sound through his teeth when the back door to Gina's opened, and a silhouette obscured the dim light of the bar.

And he _stopped._ He fucking _stopped!_ Nyx braced himself on his arms and pushed back, and met little resistance as the man pulled out.

"Shit."

Nyx rolled his eyes again. His less than stellar hookup didn't see, but the man who was lighting a cigarette like this was an ordinary occurrence in his typical night out had a knowing smile. A strangely familiar smile. One that made Nyx's stomach clench tight even as dread sank into his bones.

"Evening, Ulric," said Titus Drautos. The end of his cigarette flared orange. 

"Captain," Nyx said. The man behind him was cursing, fitting himself back into his pants, and Nyx had enough presence of mind to tug up his own jeans. No need to add public nudity to the list of offenses he was about to be court-martialed for. 

"Sorry, babe. We can go back to my place if you're still..."

"No," Nyx said. "No, we're good. It was fine. Thanks."

Drautos smirked and stepped aside as the man disappeared into the bar, and released a cloud of smoke. An uncomfortable quiet fell over the alley.

"Sir," Ulric said. 

"That's a new one," Drautos said. With the light of the bar behind him, he looked tinged with flame, a daemon emerging from the dark. 

"I can explain why I'm here, This isn't the kind of thing that happens often, I-"

"Hell, Ulric, you're too poor of a liar for this," Drautos said. He dropped his cigarette and ground it under his heel. "I won't fault you for this, Ulric, though I might offer a word of advice regarding the kind of man who thinks the back alley behind Gina's is a good place for a half-hearted fuck." 

Nyx couldn't hold in the sharp breath that escaped him at _that._ His traitorous cock was reacting faster than the rest of him, and it wouldn't be long before it became too obvious to ignore. Nyx eyed the street beyond, and dug his thumbs in his jeans pockets. 

"I know," he said. "Trust me. I should go, though."

"If that's what you want," Drautos said. 

It wasn't. Nyx felt rooted to the spot, locked in place by his captain's gaze. Drautos was examining him closely, taking in the shape of him, as though seeing him for the first time. 

"You called me 'sir' before."

"It's been known to happen," Nyx said. Drautos raised an eyebrow.

"Try it again," Drautos told him, and his voice took on the edge it did during battle, the voice of a man who knew his orders would be obeyed. "See if it fits you."

Nyx swallowed around a painfully dry throat. 

"Sir," he said, and, with the deliberation of a man who had nothing but his dignity to lose, fell to his knees on the cracked concrete of the alley floor. 

Drautos smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

"You know," Nyx said, awash in the clear-minded horror that only coffee and fluorescent lighting could bring, "you can feel free to pretend that never happened."

Captain Drautos' laugh was soft, swallowed up by the clatter of ceramic and hiss of the radio. He was sitting in one of the green booths of a 24-hour diner, hands clasped over his untouched mug of coffee. He gave Nyx the same look he reserved for new recruits who thought they could take on a falling warp in their first session. 

"Which part?" he asked. 

Nyx hadn't meant to kneel. It was the shock of being caught, the tone of Drautos' voice. It was the tangle of unspoken need that pulled him back to the bar crawls on his nights off, that had him seeking out every tight clench of a hand and sting of teeth. It was what he saw when he and the captain were butting heads at the training yards, when Drautos' voice took that low timbre that sent Nyx into a stony, defiant silence. It might as well have been hard-wired into his nerves.

He'd tried to stand again, but Drautos stopped him, his fingers carding through the ends of Nyx's hair. His touch was light, hardly there at all, but then Drautos must have seen something of the want in Nyx's eyes, and his fingers curled tight at the roots. Nyx's head was yanked back, and he closed his eyes briefly to the feel of it. Drautos' gaze lay heavy on his exposed neck and trembling shoulders.

"I see," Drautos had said, and there was something of approval in his tone.

Thinking on it in the light of the diner, Nyx suppressed a shudder.

"If it helps," Drautos said, "you won't be the first man who's thrown himself at my feet. Though, in the usual way, I tend to at least buy them dinner, first."

"Does this mean you're paying, Captain?"

"I'd hope that the crown pays my soldiers enough to afford cheap diner coffee," Drautos said dryly. 

Nyx leaned forward on his elbows. "It's the principle of the thing."

"Ah, yes, I forgot about your exacting standards. Will the wall out back do? It's plastic siding. Classy."

"Was that a _joke_?" Even so, the thought of Drautos taking him behind the diner, pressing him against the wall, his breath hot in Nyx's ear...

"Oh, by the Six, Ulric, get a hold of yourself."

Nyx blinked. "Sir?"

Drautos sighed deeply. 

"How long has this been going on?" he asked. Nyx looked down at his coffee, desperate for something to occupy his mouth while his brain tried to catch up, but it was already down to the dregs.

"The bars?" Nyx shrugged. "A few years."

"And this?" Drautos nodded to him, taking in the whole of Nyx with one small gesture.

"You've lost me."

"Soldiers don't kneel to their commanding officers."

"Yeah, well." Nyx raised the mug to his lips anyway. _Fuck._

"How long?" Drautos' voice was low again. An order.

"A few years," Nyx said. Hands slid over his, slowly pushing them down to the tabletop. The pads of Drautos' fingers were calloused and rough, and caught on Nyx's skin as he pulled away. 

"Look at me." Nyx obeyed without question, disarmed by the chaos of his untethered mind, and found himself unable to turn aside.

Drautos' eyes were stern, cold and unreadable: Like they always were when Nyx caught him glancing his way during a mission, or in the mess hall between assignments, or at one of his endless disciplinary meetings. It was a look he reserved for Nyx alone.

"Would you do it again?" he asked.

 

-

 

Drautos' apartment was set into the east side of the Citadel, close to the barracks where the younger Kingsglaive recruits were housed. The apartment itself was small and unassuming; The haphazardly placed pictures, corkboards, and prints of old Galean paintings Nyx was used to seeing at his friends' rooms were notably absent. There were one or two framed military awards on the wall, a tasteful rug from one of the outer provinces, and a small bookshelf tucked in a corner, but otherwise it looked like the sort of apartment you saw in magazine ads. Clean. Perfect. Unoccupied. 

It was easier to dwell on the emptiness of the apartment than on the man who seemed to fill it, his presence a mountainous figure that took up every corner of Nyx's awareness. Nyx had been led into the narrow space between the kitchen and living room and told to wait; and so, for the second time that night, had been brought to his knees. 

Except Drautos didn't have any _plans_ for him. Nyx watched in growing confusion as Drautos went about what seemed to be his evening routine: He put away his shoes and jacket, tossed his cigarette case in a drawer, loosened one ( _one!_ ) button on his collar, and poured himself a glass of water from a pitcher in his fridge. Nyx was in a position to see nearly all of the living room and most of the kitchen, and he had an excellent view of Drautos as he sat down on his small, dark red couch and _flipped open a fucking magazine._

The odd thing was, despite the indignation that boiled under the surface, Nyx... didn't want to move. There was something about being given an order, only to be ignored, that reminded him of his first days in the Kingsglaive. Drautos' indifference to his skills at warping had only made Nyx throw himself into practice, just to see the look on that asshole's face as he gave him the rare, coveted trophy of "Excellent work, Ulric." It was what pushed him to do _anything,_ those days, when the loss of his old life dragged at him, urging him to let go and sink into the pit that had yawned open in his mind with the invasion of Galahd. 

This had to be a test. Nyx still wasn't sure he knew all the rules, but he would be damned if he lost so soon.

"Captain?" he asked. Drautos looked over his shoulder at him, disapproval in his eyes.

"You did say you've done this before, Ulric?"

"Yeah, but..." Nyx thought back to the times he'd gone home with the more _particular_ of his acquaintances. "Usually we just..." He gestured to his shirtfront, which was woefully overdressed for that time of night.

"Please, enlighten me. What do you _usually_ do, Ulric?" Drautos' face held no sign of anger, but his voice carried a note of warning. "Put it to a vote?"

"No. Sir."

"Mm." The older man tugged at his jacket sleeves. "Come here, then. Not on the couch."

"At your feet, right?" Nyx said.

"Should have known you'd be one of _those,"_ Drautos said.

He parted his legs, giving just enough space for Nyx to squeeze between them. Nyx surged up on his knees as soon as he reached him (he knew how _this_ was supposed to go, at least) but Drautos pressed him down by the shoulders, drawing an embarrassing whine from his throat.

"You seem to be under the impression that you can fuck this out of your system, Ulric." Nyx opened his mouth, a protest pushing past his tongue, but Drautos was touching him, then, running a thumb over his jaw. His mind slipped into a haze, and when the older man's thumb pressed down on his lower lip, Nyx's tongue darted out for a taste.

"If it'll keep you quiet, I'll count it as a miracle," Drautos said, and shifted his hand to slip two thick fingers into Nyx's mouth. Nyx reflexively sucked at them, and moaned when they pushed down.

"Years, you said." The fingers in Nyx's mouth started to thrust further in, testing his endurance. He struggled to relax as they tickled the roof of his mouth, but he swallowed hard and nearly bit down. 

"A man doesn't go years fucking his way through every bar in Insomnia only to whore himself out to the real thing for a night." Nyx's eyelids fell shut. "Eyes open. Yes, I noticed, you like that. But you won't want to end it here. You went to your knees for me before you knew what it was I wanted of you."

Nyx made an inquisitive sound around the fingers fucking his mouth, and Drautos withdrew with a sigh.

"So self absorbed. Did you think I was doing this as a charity?" He leaned over, draping his arms over Nyx's shoulders so that he eclipsed the light. 

He was expecting Nyx to push back. It's what they always did; A simple back-and-forth, Drautos making exhausted demands while Nyx responded with a clever remark and an expressionless mask, on and on, until Nyx thought he'd drop and beg for it in the middle of morning muster. 

So he did the one thing Drautos wasn't expecting, but which had brought out that rare smile in the alley, when Nyx was crimson with humiliation and his knees stung with the impact of his fall. He sank under the pressure of Drautos' arms. He tipped forward in a bow, and his forehead fell to the soft fabric of the couch. Drautos' breath hitched above him, and Nyx allowed himself a smile of his own.

"What _do_ you want?" Nyx waited a beat before adding, as though it were an afterthought and not his lack of self preservation popping up again, "Sir."

Nails dug into his scalp. 

"You," Drautos said, in a growl that had Nyx tensing with anticipation, "have ten minutes to be rid of this excess," his hand clenched in the folds of Nyx's shirt, "and waiting at the foot of my bed, where you belong." 

"Then, we'll see what use you are."


	3. Chapter 3

Nyx Ulric had expected to end the night pressed up against a willing, unfamiliar body in the middle of a pulsing sea of electronic drums and the taste of alcohol. He hadn't thought to be naked, on his hands and knees, hair damp from the fastest shower in his fucking life. He hadn't thought he would be wrapping his fingers around the brass bars of Titus Drautos' footboard while the man watched him like a fucking hawk. He hadn't thought he would feel the warmth of Drautos' hand on his hair, or the pleased rumble of his voice, low and far too intimate.

"You've shown some control in the past," Drautos said, leaning down to speak into Nyx's ear. "Will I need to restrain you tonight?"

Nyx's hands tightened on the bars in response, and Drautos drew away.

"You said you've been visiting the bars," he said, in a bored tone, "and engaging in such miserable displays as the one I walked in on tonight... Because you couldn't have _me._ Is that correct, Ulric?"

Nyx nodded, gritting his teeth.

"I asked you a question."

"Yes, Sir," Nyx said. He could feel the heat rising on his cheeks as Drautos knelt behind him, casting a long shadow over the carpeted floor.

"Who was the first?" 

"I don't..." Nyx tensed at the way Drautos' palm slid along his lower back, and reflexively tried to correct his posture. There was the faintest suggestion of the drag of nails at his skin, and he scrambled through his distant memory for something. Anything.

"I was nineteen," he said. 

He was nineteen, riding off the thrill of his first successful mission, and eager to show off his Kingsglaive uniform where it might make a difference. He was too young for most of the bars in Insomnia's lower levels, but he learned that if he stood just outside and pretended like he'd snuck out for some air, the bouncers didn't care to stop him from going in. 

The man who dug soft fingers into his hips on the dance floor had the right shoulders, but his hair was too long, and when he had Nyx on his knees in one of the bathroom stalls, the Glaive clumsily laving at his prick with both hands on his thighs, he was too liberal with his praise.

"You're fucking amazing," he'd said, gently petting Nyx's hair. "You're doing great."

 _Your landing was sloppy today, Ulric._ Drautos' voice had risen through the murmured encouragement of the man above him, gruff and uninterested by how hard Nyx had been busting his ass to get his latest drills right. He thought of the look in Drautos' eyes, the challenge that lay there, and pressed the heel of his palm to his aching erection. 

"Pace yourself, kid." A hand cupped his jaw, and Nyx strained to go deeper just to spite him, his throat convulsing, the bitter taste of poorly-flavored latex on his tongue.

 _Don't get complacent,_ Drautos had said. _You're no good to me if you plan to coast, Ulric._

_No good to me._

Nyx had come, then, so hard that it was almost painful, from nothing more than the slightest pressure of his palm and the memory of Drautos' voice. So he closed his eyes and tried to see another man leaning against the stall door, feel another's hands on his hair...

Drautos' hand struck the underside of Nyx's ass with a force that made him jerk forward into the footboard. He clenched his fingers tight around the bars and tried to suppress a moan. 

"That's the first," Drautos said. "Was he enough?"

Drautos knew the answer. He had to. That's why he was there, that's why Nyx hadn't run off to lick his wounds and never speak of their meeting in the alley again. But it had to be said. "No, Sir."

"Count up from there, Ulric. Stop when you reach one that was worth the trouble."

Nyx closed his eyes and tried to remember. Who was next? A blonde, maybe? No, it was someone else, the guy who bought him a drink the day that Nyx had been made to stand on the watch floor for disobeying direct orders in the field. The man at the bar had a nice apartment in the eastern sector of the city, and didn't mind that Nyx was a fumbling amateur who preferred to keep the lights off. It had hurt, but not the way Nyx needed it to, and he'd slunk out of the man's apartment with a private promise that he was done, that it didn't matter, that he'd never put up with Drautos' bullshit again. 

"Two."

Again, the sting of contact, a spike of heat in his belly. Nyx could feel his cock twitch even as he braced himself for the next agonizing crack of Drautos' hand on his skin.

And the next. 

By the time he reached thirty-three, Nyx's prior flings had merged into a featureless haze, he could feel the heat of his ass creeping up to his hips and back, and his knuckles were white with the effort of hanging on. He thrust shallowly into the carpet when Drautos withdrew for too long, and let out a sharp gasp when firm hands lifted him to his knees again. When had he collapsed? 

"Thirty-four," Nyx said. Drautos' hands did not move. " _Thirty-four._ " 

"Are you counting just for the hell of it," Drautos said, in that insufferable level voice, "or were none of them really enough?"

Nyx's eyes stung with desperate tears. "Both, Sir. Please. Please, thirty- _four,_ thirty-"

When Drautos resumed, the blows were too quick for Nyx to count, and he fell into a wordless, open-mouthed pleading, the sounds that ripped from his throat foreign and strange. Every now and then Drautos would pause, appreciating Nyx's panting breaths, the cut-off attempts to beg for more. Then he would start again, and Nyx had to keep being hauled up by the thighs so as not to rut shamelessly into the floor.

"Is _this_ enough?" Drautos asked at last, when Nyx was on the verge of tears again, the wiry muscle of his forearms pulled tight as he clung to the footboard. 

"Yes," Nyx said, though it came out as more of a wail than speech. "No. I don't know, gods, Sir, just, just fuck me." He twisted round to face him. "Please, I want-"

"I know you do." Drautos was still fully clothed, but Nyx could see how hard he was, he _knew_ he wanted him, why was he just _watching_ him, why wasn't he...

Drautos leaned over and peeled Nyx's fingers from the bars at the foot of the bed. Nyx was babbling now, barely aware of what he was saying, only that the dam had burst, finally, _finally,_ and all the yearning and frustration and want was spilling out of him in a flood. He couldn't go back from this, it was too late, he was _sobbing_ with the strength of it even as Drautos pushed him through the process of rubbing feeling into his hands again, urged him to rest his sore ass on his heels. He begged when the captain's mouth met his, when he was pressed up against the bed, Drautos' tongue pushing past his lips as though he could taste his desperation. 

"It's done," Drautos said, one hand to Nyx's chest to keep him from grinding against his thigh. "You won't go back to them."

"No, no, why would I..." Nyx struggled to breathe. "I wouldn't."

"You're mine, Ulric," Drautos said, in a tone that brooked no argument. "And I'll claim all of you, in time. But not tonight."

He stood, and Nyx stared up at him, unable to look away. 

"Yes," Drautos said. "Very good."

Nyx closed his eyes and raised shaking hands to his hair.

"You'll sleep there tonight," Drautos told him, as he rounded the corner of the bed, out of sight. There was a groan of bed springs and the rustle of cloth. "When you've earned the right to the bed, I'll tell you."

"Yessir," Nyx said. He sank to the floor, breathing hard. 

He swore he could hear the amusement in Drautos' voice as the bedside lamp was turned off. "Alright, Ulric?"

"Yes," Nyx whispered. He smiled into the darkness, and let it drift into the slow fog of pleasure that had consumed him so thoroughly. 

"Yes, Sir."


End file.
